Maid And Master
by perfectsmuttyvampire
Summary: Does it need explaining? no longer just a one-shot
1. Chapter 1

**TITLE: Maid And Master**

**SUMMARY: I would say that title is pretty self explanatory…just a dirty little one shot with Bella and Carlisle…and err…complications. The special kind.**

**PAIRING: Bella/Carlisle**

**DISCLAIMER: THESE CHARACTERS BELONG TO STEPHANIE MEYER. I AM MERELY ****MANIPULATING TO SUIT MY OWN TWISTED IMAGINATION.**

**A/N: Ever since I wrote the words "maid and master" in High School Reunions, Chapter 3, I HAD to write this one-shot on Bella and Carlisle. I set it in the Tudor period, where Bella is a poor serving girl in the household of Lord Carlisle Cullen, and she catches his eye…in typically smutty circumstances…and well…smut abounds! Oh yes…and they hadn't invented knickers back then ;)**

**Enjoy, and as always, review!**

CPOV

There is a light knock at my door in the morning, as always.

"Come!" I bark, in typically commanding tones. She opens the door, and goes directly to the fire place, bearing the too-heavy coal scuttle, to make up the fire before I rise. She keeps her eyes on her work, and I try to ignore her. And as always, I fail. I find myself focused on her, on her ragged dress, that is too tight and small, and as such exposes almost too much flesh to be acceptable. But I have no complaints. She rakes out the old fire, sweeping up the ashes, rebuilding the fire, lighting it. Soon a pleasant little glow is blazing in the hearth.

"Is there anything else you'll be requiring, my Lord?" She asks, eyes on the floor, the ordered mark of respect. I insist that she shows me that - if only because I'm afraid I'll take her like a slut in a whorehouse if she meets my eyes with those deep, endless brown ones. She may not look at me, but I look at her. Strands of long brown curls are escaping from her cap, framing her face.

"You can have my bath water brought up. And then I will take breakfast, I think, in the main hall."

"Yes, my Lord." I want to hear her moan that… But she slips out, respectfully silent as always, back to the kitchens.

BPOV

Alice Brandon virtually assaults me when I return to the kitchens.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Oh, Isabella! You know what! Have you seen him this morning?"

"Of course. And your point is?" She rolls her eyes, but is (thankfully) prevented from saying anything else by Mistress Hale, the head maid.

"Isabella! What did my Lord order this morning?"

"He wants his bath water sent up Madame…I've already told his private servant to see to it. And he'll take breakfast in the main hall today."

"Then back to your duties Isabella - you wait on table, you know that. Go and wash."

CPOV

I'm looking out of my bedroom window when I see her leave the kitchens from the servants entrance from the grounds. She goes down to the river that runs, cool and clear, through the grounds. I expect her simply to gather water to wash clothes and so on, but instead her hands go to the front of her dress. I freeze in place, watching her. She undoes the lacings and lets it fall to the ground, untying her skirt and letting that fall too. She stands in just her shift, and then hitches that up, sitting down and letting her feet go into the river. She washes, getting the coal dust off hands, arms, face. I didn't even know that they used the river for anything but the clothes, but now I think of it, it's obvious. Where else would they wash. And Bella is very clean, always washed and clean, apart from the coal dust in the mornings.

She's waiting dutifully when I go into breakfast. She pours me a little water, knowing I don't like wine or ale in the mornings. She steps back respectfully, eyes on the floor, but always with that tendril of hair escaping her cap. She's very pretty, all submissive and readied for any order. I feel myself harden at the thought of making her submissive in other places. As I beckon her forward to refill the water goblet, she leans forward, again giving me a glimpse of the curve of her breasts, tanned a light golden colour from hours in the sun, tending to the washing, accompanying me on walks around the grounds. I want nothing more than to pull her into my lap and kiss her until we both forget that we are maid and master. But she steps back, taking the perfect view of her curves with her, to stand with my man servants, ready to return at any whim. And when I leave, she steps forward again. She follows behind me to my chambers again, this time to gather the washing.

CHAPTER TWO

A week later, and a letter arrives from Hampton Court. The King is coming on summer progress, bringing with him his young bride, Anne Boleyn. I summon Edward Masen, a young man who has been with me since he was only ten and a lowly scullion boy. But he had good bearing, and good manners, and I quickly promoted him to become one of my man servants.

"The King is embarking on summer progress, and it seems he will spend some time here with us. Make the palace ready." Nothing ever fazes Edward Masen. He simply raises one eyebrow, and asks the usual questions.

"How many will he bring with him, My Lord?"

"The same number he brought last year. Alert the kitchens - his Majesty's appetite is not to be underestimated. And make ready the best rooms."

"Will his Queen be accompanying him?"

"She shall. Make certain her suite of rooms is prepared for her and her ladies." he bows low and exits quietly.

BPOV

"The King! The King is coming here, on summer progress! He'll be here in a week!" Every head in the kitchen jerks up to gaze at Edward Masen. Mistress Hale's face pales, and then she turns on me.

"Isabella! You know what to do! Make up all the beds, with fresh sheets! Take them out to air first! Alice, you will accompany her! Quickly, girls, quickly!" Edward accompanies us.

"A week! They don't give you much notice!" Alice moans, flapping her hands desperately. She's new here, wasn't around the last time the King came.

"It will be fine, Alice, don't worry. Edward, we'll need you to help us fetch the sheets."

We take armfuls of sheets down to the hedges of the maze, just high enough to hang sheets on without trailing on the floor. Edward helps us throw them over, to spread them out to air. We leave them, there's no time to worry about them. Every room has to be thoroughly cleaned, every inch of wood waxed and polished, every floor treated, every silver fixing polished till it shines.

I wake him up the morning of the King's arrival. His slow, sleepy perusal of me makes the blush rise in my face and neck.

"My Lord, the King will be arriving within hours. Is there anything I can get you?"

"No, there is nothing. Send my men in - I will dress and then I will take breakfast up here, to make your work easier."

"My Lord," I murmur, bowing and withdrawing.

CPOV

She's there again when the great man himself finally arrives. I still remember her in my bedroom that morning, in that wretched, too-tight bodice, and the memory makes my cock twitch. But as the man himself dismounts from a beautiful black mount, and his wife and Queen steps lightly down from her own, all thoughts of desire towards my maid fade. I bow.

"Your Majesties - welcome to Forks Hall."

"Lord Carlisle!" King Henry booms, throwing one arm around my shoulder like greeting an old friend. "You haven't meet the Queen yet? Come, my dear, come forward and greet my friend Lord Carlisle Cullen." The great woman herself advances - the Great Whore, as I've heard her called - and smiles down at me. She doesn't look like she's had a child. Her bodice shows off nothing but a tiny waist, and breasts pushed artificially high. I bow low over her hand, kissing it.

"It is an honour, Your Majesty." She smiles, but the King does not give her a chance to talk.

"So, I think, to our rooms, to freshen up?"

"Of course, how rude of me Your Majesty. If His Majesty would care to follow me, I will personally direct him and his men to their rooms, and my head servant here would be delighted to direct Her Majesty and her party to their rooms."

"Certainly, old friend! And then perhaps, a tour?" "Of course."

BPOV

So the man himself has finally arrived, and I must say, he is more than a little impressive. Well-built and tall, half the serving girls are all of a twitter and gossiping about the scandal of the old Queen Catherine and his new, young bride Queen Anne.

She is very pretty, it must be said. Very dark and striking, with eyes like black onyx, skin as pale as the moon. The King is clearly infatuated with his new bride. The morning after they arrive, she rises, and smile dazzlingly at me, the serving girl crouched by the fire.

"What is your name, girl?"

"Isabella, Your Majesty." I said, scrambling to my feet. Suddenly, I'm very, very aware of the ragged gown I wear, which is too small and tight. She smiles again.

"Well, Isabella, I must say, this is a very charming house that you work in."

"Yes, Your Majesty." I reply softly, wondering where she is going with this.

"And with the Lord Carlisle, all alone, with no bride. He must be a good master."

"He is, Your Majesty." As realisation dawns on me. She wants to know if he takes me to his bed. She wants to know if her husband will stray from her this stay.

"You will help me dress, Isabella," she orders, abrupt and cold. She has the information she wants.

CPOV

The King and Queen elect to walk in the ground after breakfast. Isabella has been assigned to the queen, and walks with her. But when the queen retires from the heat, the king bids her to stay by his side. My throat constricts with anger, as Isabella trails by his side, and he talks with me of hunting and jousts. But I can't account for the bile that rises in my throat when he leans down to whisper something intimately in her ear, and she blushes and slips away. He stares after her, and anybody can read the expression on his face.

"Who is she, Carlisle?" I bite back the retort of "mine!" and answer him.

"She's one of my servants. Her name is Isabella - her parents were French and Spanish: a forbidden union. They died, both of them, of the black death, leaving their daughter in the hands of the mother's Spanish brother. He got her to England under the guise of a Spanish envoy to Princess Catherine. She has been here since she was ten, working for me. She's seventeen."

"No match?"

"None. For a time, it seemed as if she and one of my man-servants would ask for permission to wed, but it never happened. It turned out to be just servants gossip."

"She is exquisite Carlisle."

"Is she?" I ask, trying to sound uncaring.

"Don't pretend you haven't seen her. In that too-tight dress, she'd be a temptation for anybody, even an old monk like you." I force myself to laugh with him. His retinue have drawn back, far away enough so they would not hear hushed voices. "Is she yours, Carlisle?"

"She is not." I know what he wants, and it sickens me. But he is the King of England - who am I to refuse him?

CHAPTER THREE

I summon her to me that night, hoping the King has not already called her to his chambers. But Alice arrives instead, looking scared.

"What are you doing here? I sent for Isabella."

"But, My Lord, she is with the King. He sent for her an hour since, and she has not yet returned."

"She's there already?"

"My Lord, it won't last. He leaves tomorrow - and he won't take her with him." I don't ask how she knows. Alice is always right.

"You may go." But she doesn't, and I round on her in a fury. "I said GO!"

"But, My Lord, if it's not too bold, I see the way you look at her -"

"It is too bold. Now, go. NOW!" She leaves, leaving me to stand at my window, looking down to the river, shoulders slumped in dejection, knowing she's with him now, knowing what they're doing. All I want is to snatch her from his arms. Because she's mine.

BPOV

I wince when I sit down at prayers the next morning. The king and Queen join us, but they sit separately. I keep my eyes fixed on the floor, avoiding the gaze of the king. Avoiding the burning gaze of Lord Carlisle. I wanted to be with him, not with the king. But you don't say no to King Henry.

I leave as soon as the service is over, almost running back to the kitchens. I watch the Royal Party depart from the windows. Alice finds me crying in the pantry, wiping my eyes on the hem of my apron.

"Oh, Bella," she says sadly from the doorway. She kneels down in front of me, taking my hands in hers. "Did he hurt you?"

"Yes." I sob. Mistress Hale interrupts us.

"Alice, get back to your duties."

"Yes ma'am."

"Isabella, take what time you need, then dry your eyes, wash your face, and come back." She closes the door gently behind her.

_He'd been waiting in his room, wearing just a shirt and breeches. He'd sent for me, I knew what he wanted. I'd worn just my shift, a cloak over it, just as he'd asked in the garden. There hadn't been any preamble. He'd simply unfastened the cloak, let it fall away, leaving me in just a shift with holes in it. _

"_Off," he had demanded huskily, tugging at it. I'd pulled it up, leaving me standing naked before the greatest womanizer in the kingdom: King Henry VIII. He'd pushed me onto his bed, unlaced his breeches, pulling himself out. He was already hard. My eyes had widened, wondering how he was going to fit inside me. He'd spread my legs, and pushed into me. I'd screamed in pain, but he hadn't stopped, given me time to adjust._

_When he'd got through, he shuddered to a stop with a gasp, and then rolled away from me. _

"_You stay tonight." _

_At dawn, he'd woken me, and told me I had to leave. As I dressed, he thanked me. I couldn't bring myself to murmur anything but a respectful "Your Majesty" as I leave the room. I'd gone along silently halls, echoing galleries, back to the servants quarters. Jasper Whitlock had caught me trying to slip up the stairs upstairs. I'd turned away from him, afraid my shame would be written somehow on my face. I'd ignored him calling my name as I'd run upstairs. _

I dry my eyes resolutely, then go down to the river and wash my face. I sit there for a time, just watching the play of light on water, before I am summoned back to the kitchens, to work again. I ignore the ache between my legs as I walk around Fork's Hall, determined that nothing will remind me, nor will I show emotion.

But that night, Alice climbs into my bed, silently, to hold me whilst I cry.

CHAPTER FOUR

CPOV

She keeps her head held high. She never acknowledged what had happened, and the servants gossiped - saying she was being proud and aloof now the King had had her. But I knew it was a mask, to hide her pain. Because sometimes, I'd see her at the river bank from my window, and I'd be able to tell she was crying.

The months passed. Bella hasn't met my eyes since the king came. But every day I become more and more attracted to her, to the quiet manner with which she went about her duties.

BPOV

I don't dare meet his eyes. I'm afraid of what he'll se there. Most of the serving girls tell me how lucky I am, but I don't feel lucky. I feel used. I wanted - but no, that's silly. But it doesn't stop me thinking it.

I wanted Carlisle Cullen to be my first.

But he doesn't look at me.

And why should he? He is the master, and I am the maid. He would never look twice at a serving girl like me.

But he seems concerned when he finds me down by the river, washing out the sheets. All of a sudden, I'm painfully aware of the too-tight dress, with ragged hems and holes.

CPOV

She's down by the river, and I pass by her on a lonely walk around the grounds. She's scrubbing out what looks like a bed sheet, rubbing it with a bar of soap, then wringing it out. It's far too big for her to be doing on her own really. But I stop, and I watch her for a while. She doesn't notice me at first, until she drops the sheet slightly. With a hushed curse, she lunges forward to catch it. She grabs it successfully, but narrowly avoids falling into the river herself. I leap forward without thinking, slipping my arms around her waist and hauling her backwards. She lands with a thump on her backside, and I go down with her. Her shocked gasp of "oh!" is sweeter than anything I've ever heard before. She twists her head to the side to see who saved her, and suddenly our lips are only centimetres apart. I stare into her deep brown eyes, watching the slow flush spread over her cheeks. I'm pressing against her, and I'd swear she leant back into me. She swallowed audibly.

"My Lord, I -" but whoever she was going to say was lost as I acted on impulse. I closed the gap between us, kissing her once, softly. Then I pulled back, assessing her face, gauging her reaction. This time she pressed her lips against mine. I knotted one hand in her hair, pulling her closer, one hand going to her waist, hauling her against me -

"Bella!" A voice echoes across the grounds from the house. She pulled away with a quiet gasp.

"That's Alice," she whispered, - was I imagining the reluctance?

"I know." I caressed her cheek. I didn't want to let her go. But she pulled herself out of the circle of my embrace, gathering up the sheet, walking away, back towards the house.

"Coming, Alice!" I watched her go, my breathing slowing, my heart rate returning to normal. I hadn't imagined it - she'd kissed me back. But out of what? Desire, or did she feel compelled to bow to the whim of the master? I groaned and ran a hand through my hair. I hadn't done that well.

BPOV

My heart pounded as I walked back toward the house. I could feel him watching me, but I wouldn't look back. He was just looking for a moments entertainment, just as the king was. So why, why had I kissed him back?

"Bella, there you are! Mistress Hale has been looking everywhere for you!"

"Isabella!"

"I was at the river - washing the sheet."

"Is it done, then?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good. Then go - it is almost time for dinner, and you know you wait on table." I'd forgotten. This is going to be supremely awkward.

He comes in, wearing only his shirt and breeches. He takes dinner entirely alone today - nobody is in the room apart from us. When he beckons me forward to refill his glass, he moans slightly.

"My Lord?" I ask, slightly worried. "Are you in pain?"

"If I am in pain, then it is good pain Isabella." I knit my brows. I don't understand.

"Is there anything I can do, My Lord?"

"I would have you do nothing you did not want to do." He turns his head away, looking at the wall.

CPOV

I mean it. As much as I desire her, I desire her happiness more. I think.

"I want to help you, My Lord." She says, softly. I turn my head back to look at her. She's biting her lip, frowning. Possibly thinking I've lost my mind.

"Come closer, Isabella," I demand, my voice rough and hoarse with desire. She does so. "No, Isabella - come right up to me. Stand in front of me." I push my chair way from the table, leaving her room to come and do my bidding. But then without warning, I shove myself forward again. I hear her sharp intake of breath. I pull her closer until she's pressed against my legs. "On my lap, Isabella."

"My Lord?"

"Sit on my lap, Isabella." she does so, and I moan at the sensation of her thigh brushing against me through my breeches. She looks at me again, biting her lip. Suddenly, I'm disgusted at myself.

"You can go, if you'd like." I say the words, but my hands are gripping her waist through the bodice of her dress. I let go with an effort.

"And if I wouldn't like, my Lord?" she whispers. She picks up my hands from where they're gripping the arms of my chair to stop them going to her waist. She places then back where they were. I stare at her.

"You don't have to do this."

"But I - I want to." She kisses me softly. Then she watches me. I kiss her with as much force as I can exert. With a gasp, she opens her lips against mine. When I slide my tongue inside her mouth, she tentatively strokes hers alongside. I seize her waist, bringing her as close as possible, and she responds by fisting her hands in my hair, tugging gently on the strands to bring me closer to her. I groan at the sensations of her being right on top of me, so close. My cock gets harder, begging to be touched, begging for release. I can't stop my hands wandering, up to the top of that too tight bodice, to stroke my hand once along the swells of her breasts. She moans into my mouth. She runs one hand down my chest, stopping at my waist. She leaves a blazing trail, even through the shirt. An image springs unbidden into my mind - of what this would be like without the clothes. I have to seize her hips, digging my fingers in as I cling to her, because right now, my control is so fragile, I'm having a hard time not sweeping everything off the table and taking her here and now, on that table. I break the kiss, and she rests her forehead against mine. She's breathing heavily, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling.

"It has to stop, Isabella."

"Yes, my Lord." I chuckle lightly: after that kiss, and she's still calling me My Lord? I run one thumb over her cheek, lingering on her lips. She opens her mouth, biting gently. Little minx. She slides off my lap, tugging her skirt back into place from where it's been crumpled and hitched up from our activities. There isn't much she can do about the bodice - too tight, too small… she has to leave, right now.

"You should leave."

"You don't want me?"

"I want you very much, Isabella - but if you stay, I shall not give any regard for ceremony, and I would have you on that table." Her breath catches in her throat. "And as fascinating as that would be, my Isabella, it would be more than a touch awkward if people were to catch us." She blushes as the impact of precisely what I want to do to her sinks in. she clears away, under the scrutiny of my gaze. The high colour dies eventually, and she looks perfectly composed by the time comes to leave. I catch her in my arms, pressing her against me, just before she slips away.

"Tonight," I breath in my ear before kissing her neck. She goes back to the kitchen, and I go to deal with my highly indignant cock, which is screaming at me to go after her, put her on whatever available flat surface and fuck her until she screams.

She slips round the door of my room later that night. The candles are flickering, the sun is setting over the river. I'm still wearing only shirt and breeches. She's taken off her cap, but apart from that, she's wearing what she wears every day. Her dark hair is tumbling down her back, curly and wild. The candles play softly over her skin. She meets me in the middle of the room. I kiss her with enough passion to set the room alight. She pushes against me, her hands on my hips. I pick her up, and somehow she manages to wrap her legs around my waist. She lets her hands go into my hair again. I carry her to the bed, setting her down, lying on top of her. She doesn't unwind her legs from my waist. If anything, she pulls me closer, moaning when the rough front of my breeches brushes against her. I break away suddenly.

"You can say no at any point." in answer, she sits up and unlaces her bodice - front lacing. What a blessing - and throws it to the floor. I take the hint. I find the laces of her skirt and untie them. She's lying there in a short shift and nothing else. God, I want her. She yanks the shirt away, up and over my head, leaving my bared chest entirely at her mercy. She runs her palms down, over my muscles, down across my stomach. Unlike the King, I haven't run to fat yet. She lets her hands linger on the ties of my breeches, looking up, asking for permission with her eyes.

"Yes, Isabella…" I whisper to her. She undoes them, and I sit up to pull them down. Now, this is clearly out of balance. I'm naked before her, in all my glory, and she's still wearing that pathetic excuse for a shift. I pull her upright, and pull it over her head. And then she's naked, the candlelight playing across her, flickering in the depths of her deep brown eyes. She pulls me back down to lie on top of her, kissing me again. But when I try to take my body weight on my arms, she pulls away and shakes her head.

"Don't," she says. "I like the feel of you." She'll like the feel of me more before tonight is over.

I kiss a trail down her neck, over her breasts, down her stomach, then back up again. My hand cups her gently, and I slip one finger inside her. She gasps and arches her back. She writhes as I play her gently.

"Please…Carlisle…" The sound of my given name coming from those full, delicious lips takes away my control. I withdraw my hands. She moans at the loss, but then I position myself at her entrance, sliding inside her. She gasps wildly, clawing at my back. I force myself to stop. She's so _tight_. If I didn't know better, I'd swear she was a virgin.

"Are you alright?" I pant, heavily.

"Please…I need you…I need you to _move,"_ she gasps. I kiss her as I start to thrust. She throws her head back and gives a wild gasp. She brings her own hips up, and I slide deeper, letting her feel all of me. She wraps her legs around me again, moans falling from her parted sweet lips and I fuck her. She's so warm, so wet and unbelievably tight. I don't know how long I'm going to last. But I put my hand down between us and touch her, rubbing her little bundle. She bucks, screaming my name, digging her nails into my shoulders. I go faster, sliding in and out of her wet heat. She clenches around me suddenly, and with a primal, desperate scream, she throws her head back. Her eyes roll back in her head, her lips part. I kiss her, and she kisses me back desperately, as if she's trying to stay on the ground. She's beautiful as she climaxes. I drop my hands to her hips and bring them up as I carry on thrusting. The new angle makes her clench the bed sheets in her fists and swear as she squeezes her eyes shut and moans desperately. I drop my hand back to her sensitive bundle, and she climaxes again, tightening impossibly around me. The feeling is unbelievable - and I lose control. This time I fall over the edge with her.

When my vision returns to normal, I slump onto her. She wraps her arms around me, stroking my hair. She smiles at me sleepily when I roll us, so she's the one lying on my chest. I kiss her forehead, and she settles down. I watch her sleep until tiredness drags me under.

I don't know what will happen, but I'll find a way for us to be together.


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N Sorry it took so long to get this up. I've been focusing my energy on my A-Levels and Target Protection. I actually had no intention at all of carrying this on, but as many of you have pointed out, I couldn't just leave it. So, we re-join the forbidden romance of Bella and Lord Carlisle (hands up all those who secretly want to be Bella in this story) and we join them as they struggle to come up with a solution._**

**_Oh, and just to be clear: Bella did NOT get pregnant with King Henry because…err… she'd just had a period, and so it didn't happen. It just didn't, OK? She is NOT going to have the King's baby._**

CPOV

We wake up to the sunrise. She turns her face towards it, smiling as the rays hit her face. I brush a lock of hair away from her face, and she turns back to me and snuggles close. I put my arms around her, and she lays her head on my chest.

We watch the sunrise together.

"What are we going to do?" she asks, quietly, focusing her attention on my face, looking into my eyes.

"I don't know. I don't know Bella."

"I don't want to leave you," she whispers.

"We will be together Bella. Somehow, we will be together."

She doesn't leave my side that day. We don't even leave the room. I take her back to bed at noon, make sweet and gentle love to her. I stroke her face, she kisses me softly.

A lone rider clatters into the courtyard a few weeks later. Bella is outside, sweeping the steps. She opted to continue with her duties, until we can find a solution. She goes up to the rider, who throws back his hood. She nearly falls over as she runs up the steps.

"My Lord! My Lord Carlisle!"

"Isabella!"

"The king is coming!" She's very pale.

"Are you feeling sick again?"

"Yes…"

"Then go, quickly. Down to the kitchens, and stay there until I come for you."

A retinue gallops into the yard with a great clattering of horses hooves. The tallest man detaches himself from the group, and walks towards me.

"Carlisle!"

"Your Majesty. I must say it is a pleasure to see you again - if entirely unexpected."

"Sorry, old fellow. I'm on my way to a great hunt. Would you join me?"

"I would."

Mounted and riding fast, we gallop to the Great Park. The king stops us under a tree, and he motions for me to walk from the group with him. I rein in the horse a little way from the edge of the slope.

"Your Majesty, if you will pardon my forwardness - what is happening here? You appear in my courtyard, virtually unannounced, and you barely say a word. And although you say we are on a hunt, you are accompanied by no dogs."

"You were always extraordinarily observant, Carlisle. Even as a boy, you spotted things nobody else could see. But I digress." He pauses, and looks towards the Tower of London. "She betrayed me Carlisle. The Great Whore - she is a witch Carlisle."

"The Queen -"

"She stole that crown! It belonged to Catherine, and I threw it away on a whore in a moment of desire." His shoulders slump, and he seems to crumple in the saddle. "And at the cannon, she will die for her crime." I gape at him. The woman he tore England to pieces for, the woman he divorced a Catholic for, the woman almost the entire country hated - is the woman he is about to execute for treason.

"Your Majesty -"

"Any moment, and I shall be free, Carlisle." He gazes at the Tower. The boom echoes across the expanses, and reaches even our ears. The king wrenches his horses head around. I make my decision on the spur of the moment. But before I can ask permission to leave the hunt, he turns back to me. "That serving girl of yours - how is she?" I nearly hit him. So he's worried now, is he? Didn't get in contact for months, but now he's asking about her health.

"She's fine, Your Majesty."

"No complications?"

"No. Your Majesty, I must crave your pardon, but I must return to the house. I have… business that cannot wait."

"Of course, Carlisle, of course. Oh, and old friend?"

"Your Majesty?"

"You must come to stay at court very soon. And you'll have to bring your serving girl. I don't need to be told that she is yours now." He smiles at me. "I'll expect you at the end of the month."

I hand the reins of my horse to the first stable boy I see, and run into the house.

"Edward! Emmett! Jasper!" I shout into the entrance hall. All three men appear at once, and hastily take my cloak. "Fetch Bella, and get up to my room as soon as possible!"

The four join me, the three men flustered and worried, Bella pale but very happy looking.

"The King demands my presence at Court. He wants Bella to accompany me. We will move in at the end of the month. You three will come with us."

"The King," Bella whispers, her face paler than ever.

"You men may leave. Begin preparing for the journey. I will take a carriage. You men will ride." The three bow and exit. Bella stares at me.

"I can't go back to him, Carlisle," she whispers fiercely. "Not now."

"You won't have to. He knows - god knows how - that we are together. He'll not touch you."

"That's good - because there is something you must know." She looks right at me, biting her bottom lip gently. "I'm going to have a baby." I check to see how I feel about that.

"No mistake?

"No mistake." I run at her and sweep her up into my arms. She giggles happily as I kiss her smile. "You're going to be a father."

"We'll go away together," I promise her, setting her back on her feet. "We'll go to the country. We can have a little farm somewhere, and we can have children, and we'll never have to worry about status, or Court life or propriety again. We could have some cows, and a few horses, some sheep, some hens."

"Do you know how to be a farmer?" she giggles.

"I could learn."

"It takes money to be a farmer."

"I've got money. And we could easily sell eggs and butter and cheese and milk at market."

"You're mad."

"Mad with love," I say, kissing her again. In that moment, I can see it: me, coming in from the fields, muddy from the work, tired but happy, a toddler running towards me, our son, whilst Bella waits in the door of our little cottage, cradling our baby daughter. Safe, happy, secure.

She steps from the carriage, assisted by Emmett lifting her down, wearing a new dress. I will have her here as a lady, not as some poor serving wench. I plan to get the Kings permission to wed here in London very soon. And then I will take Bella away, and we will be happy somewhere together.

She walked into the King's presence chamber with her head held high. Her brown curls tumbled down her back like a virgins. She was on my arm, radiant, and more lady-like than most of the women in that chamber. Only the increased pressure on my arm as the King looked up and saw us told me that she was nervous.

"Carlisle!" The King boomed, advancing towards us from his throne. I bowed. Bella swept him a perfect curtsey, and came back up with her head held high and her dark eyes downcast. A gasp rings round the room, and the whispers start.

"She looks like her."

"The old Queen."

"She looks like the Princess Catherine." I look properly at the woman by my side. And I see it too. The tumbling curls, the olive skin, the liquid eyes. I see that the King sees it too, and he stares at Bella as if he'd never seen her before.

"Carlisle, you must meet Queen Jane - my new bride." I focus upon the pale, blonde, tiny woman on the throne at the head of the hall. She gets up, and walks towards us. She gives us a smile that makes pale blue eyes sparkle.

"Lord Cullen. My husband, the King, he speaks very highly of you."

"Your Majesty," I say, bowing to her. I can't take it in. Divorced, beheaded - I wonder what fate awaits this woman. She'd best give the King a son, for her sake.

"And you, you must be Isabella."

"Yes, your Majesty." The murmurs begin again. I focus in on her accent - the Spanish accentuation.

"The King said Carlisle would be accompanied by a young girl, but I see a woman here, not a girl. Come, we shall leave the men to their chatter, and we shall go to _my_ apartments." The King smiles indulgently at the slight young woman as she leads Bella off.

"Your Majesty, I come to Court for more than one reason - no, that's no good."

"You need to just come straight out and ask him," Edward says, folding my breeches and shirt. I glare at him from the bathtub.

"Oh, I can see that going brilliantly well."

"You can but try," he says, practically. "And however you ask him, it must be soon, because Bella will soon start to show the baby. Oh, and what's this utter rubbish I heard some of the servants gossiping about - that Bella is the spirit of the dead Queen Catherine?"

"They think she looks like the old Queen when she was a Princess and Arthur's bride."

"And you want to ask the King permission to wed her?"

"If he doesn't give it, we - there is another plan Edward."

"Of course."

"We'd go away together."

We've been at Court for a week when it is announced that the Queen expects a baby. I approach the King and Queen, with Bella holding my arm tightly, to ask him for his permission.

"Ah, Carlisle, I was wondering when you'd come and talk to me! What do you make of the good news?"

"It is wonderful, Your Majesty. But we ask for your blessing, Your Majesty."

"Blessing?"

"We wish to wed, Your Majesty. We want very much to be married, and be able to live together as social equals. I don't want to hide our love." Bella is breathing steadily beside me, her dark eyes on his face, watching him closely.

"So this is why you've been so pre-occupied all week." He looks very thoughtful. "Carlisle, my friend, we shall take a walk in the grounds. Perhaps Jane will take Bella to her own chambers to talk for awhile."

BPOV

The Queen directs me to a cushion in front of the fireplace, and I curl up.

"So, then, my Bella, you want to wed Carlisle?"

"I would like nothing more, Your Majesty."

"You know, of course, that the King will refuse Carlisle the permission."

"I knew it, Your Majesty." I gaze at the crackling flames, feeling the tears sting my eyes. "And yet he may have to let it happen regardless."

"Why, my Bella?"

"I am due to have a child in seven months. His child."

"If Carlisle tells the King this, then permission will be hard to refuse. But you both would be banished from Court. Carlisle would be lucky to keep his lands, title and wealth."

"Why does he do this to us?"

"You remind him, and indeed everyone, of the young Princess Catherine. He would struggle greatly to see you wedded."

"But I am not her! I will never be her!"

"The King is very superstitious. He believes that Catherine has been reborn in you, back to punish him for his sin. His guilt tortures him greatly. He thinks if he allows you to wed Carlisle, then your children will threaten his throne when they are older."

"We wouldn't stay at Court if he refuses his permission. We would leave, be wedded privately, and by the time he caught up with us, the pregnancy would be too advanced to deny, and there would be nothing he could do to stop us."

CPOV

I know he will refuse even before he opens his mouth. But his reason for refusal shocks me silent.

"I cannot give you the permission you seek."

"May I venture to ask you why?"

"You must be able to see it Carlisle! The Princess Catherine, she lives again in her! She is back to punish me with new love! Catherine lives in her, and I must make amends to her."

"Your Majesty, you cannot refuse us permission to wed. I am sorry, but she is already pregnant!" His face pales to the extent where I think he will faint.

"She will have your child?"

"Within the year - before the winter arrives, Bella will bear my child." He rounds on me, and I take a step back.

"And the child of this woman - the child of Catherine's spirit - how can I be guaranteed that the child will not come for vengeance upon me?"

"Your Majesty, forgive me, but I think you know that that is ridiculous! I will raise the child to be loyal to their King. I would do it well away from Court, well away from you and your family. And forgive me, but the Princesses Mary and Elizabeth are the people who have the most reason to wreck vengeance upon you, and they are both at Court!"

"Carlisle, I will grant you permission to wed, if you will give me your word that you and she will never return to Court! Promise me that I will never see either of you again, and I will give you the permission you seek."

"I promise, Your Majesty, that neither Bella nor myself will return to your Court."

"You leave tomorrow morning, and you will never return."

I had left him by the riverbank, and raced into my suite of rooms.

"Edward!" He pokes his head out from my bedroom. "Find Emmett and Jasper. Pack everything up. We are leaving tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow?"

"Don't ask me questions, Edward, I'll explain everything once we are back at Forks Hall. I don't care if it takes all night - we leave at dawn tomorrow."

As the sun rises, we leave Hampton Court. I don't let go of Bella's hand until we draw up at Forks Hall.

"Home," I whisper to her, lifting her down.

"Forever?"

"Yes, forever."

_**A/N: And I think we all know that this isn't done yet. Anyway, please review, and I'll start working one part 2 ASAP.** _


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N: OK, so when we left off Part Two, Bella and Carlisle were banished from Court because King Henry thinks Bella is Catherine of Aragon in spirit. It's not as daft as it may sound - they were very superstitious back then. Bella is expecting Carlisle's little bundle of joy (how ADORABLE will that baby be??) and they are getting married…but will King Henry leave them be?_**

**_Picks up right where the last part left off._**

**_By the way, in case you were wondering, the year is 1537. Henry VIII died in 1547. Our story began in 1535, the summer. Catherine of Aragon died in January, 1536._**

CPOV

I carry her up the stairs, her head lolling onto my shoulder. I've already made the decision. One we are married, and our child is born, I will take her to the country. We will have the simple life I dreamed of that night. I stroke her hair as she sleeps, her face peaceful, lips slightly parted. I climb in beside her, and she cuddles up. I run my hand over her little bump. Our child will grow up in peace, away from the lies and superstitions of the Court.

JasperPOV

They left the Court in uproar. The servants had run almost riot with gossip about the Princess Catherine, returned from the heavens to haunt the King. I look at Bella and I see only Bella, a young woman in love. I look at Carlisle, and I do not see a man hungry for the crown - I see a man hopelessly in love with his young lover, who wants only to love Bella as his equal.

I know what he plans to do. They will marry privately, they will have the baby, and then they will leave for the country and a different life. That is, they will do it if the King allows it.

HenryPOV

I cannot get the image of her from my mind. She is burned into my memory, the Spanish Princess back from the grave. But the last time I had seen her, she had not borne the slightest resemblance to Catherine. I saw Bella in the early winter - and just months after that visit, Catherine died. And when she returned to Court, dressed as a lady and not as a servant, it seemed Catherine was there in spirit. For the first time since her death, the terrible guilt over my actions towards the woman I had loved overwhelms me, and the pain is so great, it is physical. I forced one of my most trusted friends to swear he would never come back to my Court, because I was too afraid to look into her eyes every day, terrified I would see Catherine in them.

I am terrified of a spirit. A spirit I did such terrible wrong to.

II

CPOV

The ceremony was as small as possible. Only the staff attended in the small village church. She dazzled, a smile as perfect and as beautiful as the sun. But I got my ring on her finger, and I thought with a feeling of relief, that not even the King would be able to contest this, not even the King would be able to argue that this was never valid - because, in the sight of witnesses, and God himself, we were wedded, and she is already pregnant. It will be unshakable.

But the doubt still niggles at me. The fear that he will find a way to hurt Bella, to hurt me, to hurt our child.

I take her away for the pregnancy and the birth, to my house in the country, to get her as far from Court as possible. She rides every day, looking round at green fields, and blue skies, and clean air. She blossoms. The colour deepens in her cheeks, and as she grows rounder, her eyes grow brighter, her health visibly improves. In her eighth month, we are cradled together in front of the fire, and I am playing idly with her hair.

"Carlisle, what was the letter that came yesterday?" she asks softly, looking up at me. I freeze. I didn't think she'd seen the messenger.

"I was hoping you hadn't noticed."

"Carlisle, I am not blind. A man dressed in your livery came yesterday, you walked out to meet him, and he gave you a letter and rode away. Making a lot of noise. Of course I saw him. Why won't you say?" She wriggles in my arms, looking up into my face. She puts one hand up to cup my cheek. I lean into her hand, with a soft sigh. I don't say anything. "It's him, isn't it? He won't let us be after all." I know who she means.

"Yes, it's him. But Jane - you remember she was pregnant? - she want's us back at Court. He wants us back at Court. Jane has been asking for you. And, convinced that Jane carries his son, he is indulging her every wish. She want's you - so back we must go."

"You are coming? I won't go if you don't. and what about my child? I can't travel to London now!"

"No. He wants you there as soon as you can travel. And Queen Jane wants you to bring the baby. And yes, the invitation included myself. Would you like to see it?" I reach into my doublet and pull the letter out. "My Lord and Lady Cullen," I begin. Bella giggles.

"I forget that when I married you, I became a Lady. I was a servant, for God's sake! I was your servant, the bastard child of a forbidden union, and now, now I am a lady."

"Do you want me to read it to you? My Lord and Lady Cullen. His Royal Majesty King Henry, and his good with, Her Royal Majesty Queen Jane, request your presence at Court."

"That's it?"

"That's it. I'm guessing that the King had somebody else write it, with orders to make it as business like as possible. The Queen's baby is due in less than three months, and as soon as you are ready, we will travel to London."

London. London, and a King who made it abundantly clear that he never wanted to see me again, so terrified as he was of my young love. The fear that there is an ulterior motive behind this will not leave me, and as I watch her sleep that night, long lashes sweeping her cheeks, I feel the ball of nerves settle firmly in my stomach, like a weight of steel.

**_A/N: Well, that's this chapter, I know it's short, I know it's a little bad._**

**_You see, I've had a bit of a health scare. I've been getting very severe headaches, and I've collapsed a few times and had what seemed to be a fit. My doctor kicked around a condition about periods, where the womb is split, and you bleed internally during your period. It's very painful. I always had trouble with mine, so first he tried the pill. It stopped the pain, but not the blackouts. I was referred to a neurologist, who thought I had epilepsy. Naturally, because nobody seemed to know what was wrong with me, I got worried I was seriously ill. I asked my doctor what worse-case scenario was: his reply was, that in the absolute worst case, I had cancer. I was given the all-clear recently: it turned out to be an entirely treatable, manageable condition. I have been suffering, and will suffer with for the rest of my life, with migraines combined with extremes of emotions. I don't need to take any medication: they tried acupuncture on me instead. It helped a lot, and I'm happy to say, that whilst I will never be able to completely cure it, I will be able to manage it and live an entirely normal life, which, thanks to my lurid imagination, was a bloody good relief._**

**_I thought my amazing fans should know this, because you've all been so sweet. Updates will start up regularly again!_**

**_Please review!!!_**


	4. Chapter 4

**_A/N: Aahhh, a nice new chapter. So, where were we? Ah, of course. Carlisle and Bella have been summoned back to Court, and Carlisle is scared that the King will not be nice. Now, I am writing this on my laptop, on a train, heading happily for Liverpool, on an exchange thingy-type for school. I will still be updating, in the evenings, when I'm snuggling down in my hotel room, all-expenses paid. I love my school. However, I'm not sure when, so bear with me!_**

BPOV

The day is hot and sunny. Not for me the confinement of the women at Court, not for me the darkened, too-hot rooms. Plenty of fresh air.

I sit by our bedroom window, watching Carlisle in the field just behind the house, talking to Jasper about something. He gestures, indicating the land around him. Jasper catches my eye and waves. Carlisle turns around and smiles when he sees me watching. He calls up.

"How are you?"

"Hot. What are you doing?"

"Planning the farm!"

"Really? Tell me all about it!"

"We're going to have some sheep in that field, some horses in that, and in this field, we shall have chickens. I'm also splitting all that land beyond," he shouts, indicating the vast tract he owns beyond the neat fields. "and it will have cows and perhaps some pigs. In front of the house, next to the moat, we shall have gardens, such lovely gardens."

"It sounds perfect, my love. It sound wonderful. Perhaps, in the oak tree, our child could have a swing."

"It sounds lovely."

"And you could actually fix the fountain."

"Point taken."

"Jasper, you may wish to get parchment and ink. There ought be a list -OH!"

"Bella!" Carlisle shouts. My hands fly to my belly.

"I think, Carlisle, that we're going to have a baby." I struggle to my feet. The pain, so sudden, has receded as quickly as it came. Carlisle explodes through the door. He lifts me, placing me on the bed.

"Jasper has gone for the midwife," he murmurs, very tender and sweet as he strokes my hair. "Everything will be fine, my darling."

"We should think about names." I double up as best as I can when the pain comes again. It passes, and I gesture that I'm fine.

"A girl? What would you christen a girl?"

"I thought about Katherine, but I think, under the circumstances, it isn't a good idea."

"Her middle name could be Katherine."

"Perhaps she could take my name. And if it is a boy, he would take yours."

"I think that is a lovely idea, my love," he says, kissing my forehead.

"Do you not want a boy?"

"Whatever, my darling. Whatever our child is, we will love them."

The midwife comes in and examines me, a moment Carlisle is forbidden to be part of.

"It'll be some time yet, My Lady," she says, smiling. "You're in the very early stages. Your husband can come back in."

"Thank you Esme."

"I'm warning you, My Lady, it may actually be a day, perhaps two, before you go into full labour. I can leave, and come back, or I can stay."

"Could you stay? I'd feel happier."

"Of course. Alice? That was your name? Could you go and fetch My Lord?"

"Is it over? It was very quick." Carlisle edges into the room, looking scared.

"No, My Lord. Not yet, perhaps not for a few days. These things tend to take a long time."

"Days?" He repeats, looking aghast. "Will Bella be in pain for days?"

"No, My Lord," Esme says smiling. "The contractions have stopped, and she'll only be in pain during the labour, which may not be for some time yet. We'll be prepared, I promise you that. Perhaps if you were to take Bella for a walk, just a slow, leisurely one, then I can get this room - you are giving birth here?"

"No, I was going to give birth in another bedroom. it's two doors down the hall."

"Then, My Lord, if I could borrow a few of your servants -"

"Of course."

The gardens are peaceful, and warm. Carlisle leads me to the shade of the oak tree and lays one hand very tenderly on my belly. I'm only in my shift, having abandoned the dress for comforts sake before we even left the house.

"He kicked me," he murmurs, wonder in his eyes as he looks up.

"Or she," I remind him gently, placing my hand over his.

"Or she," he agrees quietly.

"Carlisle, what's wrong?" I ask, sensing that something troubles him, that something is worrying him.

"I don't like to think of you in pain," he mumbles, stroking my tummy.

"It'll be worth it when we hold our child. The pain won't be forever." he rests his ear to my tummy suddenly. "What are you doing?"

"Listening to the heartbeat. It's very strong, Bella."

"I wish I could hear it."

Sure enough, it's three days before an intense, fearful pain tears through me. I scream. I was sitting in the birthing room, rocking the little cradle that Emmett made. But it rips through me like a knife blade, and I scream. Edward tears through the door, takes one look at me, bending over the cradle, clutching it like it stands between me and death itself. I feel his strong, capable arms lift me up and deposit me on the bed. I hear him cross the room, and he shouts for Carlisle and Esme.

Carlisle is banished, Alice grabs my hand as I scream. This is unimaginable. I'm going to die. Nobody could live through this.

"Your waters have broken, my Lady. It won't be long now - I think this labour will be very quick. I have to examine you."

"I want to push!" I scream, sensing that if I push, if I get this _thing_ out of me, I will be fine.

"Not yet, My Lady, I have to examine you!"

"Dear God, woman, do whatever you bloody want!" I scream, my face contorting with effort. "Alice, Jesus, help me!"

"It's going to be alright, Bella! I promise you, it will be fine."

"Don't leave me!"

"I'm not going anywhere, Bella, I promise."

"My Lady, you are very, very advanced. The next time you want to push, push!"

I felt like days had passed. Days of searing agony, days of burning pain, and blood. But it was only hours, and then I heard a high-pitched, protesting wail. Suddenly the fire died, the pain stopped, and all I could hear, or feel, or see, was the crying child, and overwhelming love.

"A boy, My Lady. A healthy baby boy."

"Give him to me. Let me hold him." A bundle was placed in my arms, and a pair of baby blue eyes gazed up at me in wonder. "Hello, little one. I'm mummy," I whispered, kissing his forehead gently."

"He'll want feeding, my Lady," Esme said, smiling broadly. "will you be, or do you have a wet nurse?"

"I will feed him," I say, firmly. I don't care about protocol, I don't care about tradition. I will feed my baby.

Carlisle peeks in, looking worried and pale. I realise with a jolt, that he would have heard me screaming. He focuses on my face.

"Are you alright? Esme wouldn't tell me anything, just that you wanted me."

"This is our son, Carlisle. This is our boy," I whisper, looking at him, searching his face. A big, slow grin spreads over his face.

"Our son?"

"Do you want to hold him?" He reaches out, and I slide the baby into his arms. There's a gurgle, a little cough, and then he starts crying. Carlisle looks panic-stricken.

"Don't worry," I assure him. "We just disturbed him, that's all. Just move your arms a little, rock him gently." He does as I say, and sure enough, the baby quietens.

"He's perfect. Just like his mother," Carlisle whispers, and kisses his son gently. "I love you."

It's a perfect moment. Just him, me, our baby son. Court is not thought of, superstitions are forgotten, in a golden moment that will be impossible to re-create.


	5. Chapter 5

**_To London_**

CPOV

We travel to London, and the Court, less than two weeks after Bella has given birth. She goes by carriage, and I hold her close as she sleeps, letting the motion of the carriage lull our son to sleep. Sometimes, we just watch his face, as he smiles, gurgles, chirps. He can chirp exactly like a sparrow. He was christened Carlisle James Henry Cullen. His tuft of startlingly dark hair stands out against his baby-blue eyes. It's too soon to say who he looks like, but Bella thinks he looks like me.

"Presenting My Lord Carlisle Cullen and his wife, My Lady Isabella Cullen, and their son, Sir Carlisle Cullen." The herald announces us as impressively as possible, his voice booming into the sudden silence. Nobody needs to tell us what the people here are thinking as we advance towards the throne - Bella holding our son firmly in her arms. It must look like some kind of invasion: the "spirit" of the dead queen, her husband - and their infant son.

"Isabella!" A female voice shouts, and we look to the throne. Queen Jane is being physically prevented from leaving her chair by her husbands hand on her arm. Bella hands our child to me and somehow, this feels right.

"Seize her!" Guards surround Bella.

"Bella! No!" Our son, previously sleeping happily in my arms, opens his eyes, sees his mother struggling to escape for two very large and burly men and starts screaming. Cries of disbelief mingle with his, and chaos descends on the room.

"Silence!" roars the King.

"Your Majesty!" I cry, fury bubbling inside me. "I demand that you release my wife immediately!"

"She is charged with witchcraft, Carlisle. Take her!"

"NO!"

"Lord Carlisle, if you cannot control yourself, I will have you arrested, and your son turned over to an orphanage."

"Carlisle, don't," a quiet, accented voice says from beside me. Bella's eyes are blazing - and she lost her headdress in the struggle. Her dark curls wave around her head. "Don't let him take our son. Your, Majesty," she asks, turning towards the throne. "Your Majesty, I demand to know what I have been charged with."

"Witchcraft."

"On what grounds do you bring these charges?"

"I do not have to explain my reasons, nor my grounding for the charges brought -"

"Correction, Your Majesty. Under the Magna Carter of King John, I am entitled to know the grounds on which you charge me, and a fair trial by a jury of peers! Not even you, not even you can ignore the Magna Carter!" She shakes her guards off, and stands tall before the King, eyes flashing lightening, hair storming around her head.

"We have witnesses that can swear that they saw your spirit enter the chamber of the Queen at night, and had to be fended away from her sleeping form with the sign of the one true God, the Holy Cross. You planned to curse her, to make her lose the child she carries, and replace my family with your own!"

"You truly think that I, the child of a forbidden union, a bastard child, supposedly the spirit of your former wife, you think that I would seek to scupper you? Queen Katherine loved you! She loved even when you threw her aside for a whore, even when you tore her daughter from her! Why would she want to scupper you? I am not Katherine, either in spirit or otherwise. I merely share part of my heritage with her."

"Nonetheless, the evidence cannot be ignored. Take her to the Tower!"

"Carlisle, don't even think about it," she says calmly, turning from the throne without so much as an incline of her head. "Keep our baby safe. Keep yourself safe." the guards move up behind her, but she steps neatly away from them, coming towards me. She kisses our son on the forehead. "Mamma will be home soon, I promise." And then she looks up at me. I wish I was as small as the baby in my arms, easily comforted by a kiss and an empty promise. She kisses me passionately. "I love you." She turns away. I have to watch her walk out, flanked by guards. The slam of the doors to the presence chamber doors sounds like the thud of an axe on an executioners block.

BPOV

The room they put me in in the Tower is filthy. I hear the scuttle of tiny claws criss-cross the floor. A man comes in sometime after - there's no window, only a guttering candle. I don't know how much time has passed. Where is Carlisle? Is he safe? My baby? Please God, let them be safe. Let them live. I survey him as best I can.

"Who are you?"

"My Lady, my name is Fernandez. I am an envoy from Spain. Emperor Charles, he send me, he knows you are here. I did not expect to find you in such trouble."

"It's not hard to understand. The King has had me charged with witchcraft."

"My lady, forgive my rudeness, but I know this. I have news. The Emperor - he take care of his own. He send me to make sure you are not treated badly."

"What do you mean, the Emperor takes care of his own? I've never even met the Emperor, I left Spain when I was five. I barely even remember my parents.

"I'm sorry, My Lady, but there is something you must know."

"Like what? I'm sorry, but if it isn't something that will save me from whatever fate awaits me now -"

"My Lady, do you know what awaits a lady on being found guilty of the crime of witchcraft?"

"For me? They will burn me, the bastard child of a forbidden union."

"No, my Lady. When the King hears what I must tell you, he will not dare to, because your life would mean war."

"War? What? Are you _crazy_? Who are you? Why would my death result in war?"

"My Lady, how much of your parents do you remember?"

"Very little. My mother died when I was born. My father got me out of Spain under the guise of a Spanish envoy to the Princess, when I was five. He was French, I was told, a French carpenter. She - my mother - was a servant to Ferdinand and Isabella. She named me for her - the Spanish Queen."

"Did you never think to question why?"

"No. There was nobody to ask. I never saw my father again."

"Oh, but My Lady! This is very good. You can claim total ignorance to your heritage!"

"Heritage? What are you talking about? The only_ plausible_ relationship I have to the Emperor and the old Queen is that I am half-Spanish."

"No, My Lady. You share so much more than that. You are Katherine's blood relative - and as such, you are also related to the Emperor himself."

"No," I say. "No. I am a bastard child of two servants."

"It was a cover for your protection. Katherine knew, I know, the Emperor knows - and it is time, My Lady, for you also to learn of it."

"So, tell me. Who am I?"

"You, My Lady Isabella, you are the child of Ferdinand of Aragon and his Mistress. You are Katherine's sister. You are, in effect, the aunt of Emperor Charles himself."

**_A/N: OK, I took massive amounts of historical license with this chapter. As far as I know, Ferdinand of Aragorn never had a mistress, let alone an illegitimate child. I don't wish to cause anybody offence. It is a work of fiction. I'm bending the facts to fit the story: regardless, the characters, at any rate, are real, and the events correspond with the time._**

**_PLEASE REVIEW_**


	6. Chapter 6

CPOV

I do not see Bella again for almost a week. I am told, firmly, that she is not allowed visitors. It is a very long time. Each minute feels like an hour, every hour a day. I can't sleep. I reach for her at night, only to feel an empty bed beside me. Only the fact that our son needs his father because his mother's life hangs in the balance keeps me going. I remember bitterly what happened after she was taken.

"_Your Majesty, I beg of you Sire - don't do this!"_

"_Carlisle, I have evidence!"_

"_Evidence! Bella is not a witch!" The glower of the great man nearly made me tremble. But I faced him out, remembering Bella's bravery when she faced him. _

"_She will be tried. I assure you it will be fair."_

"_Fair! A fair trial for Bella, with this evidence you claim exists, ends in death."_

"_Carlisle, I had no choice! You will withdraw now. This man will escort you to your rooms. I assume you will remain here?"_

"_I will remain, Sire, but for my wife. I could not leave her now." the whispers of the Court followed me away._

_They gave me rooms on the far side of the castle from the King and Queen. Just two days after they took Bella, there is a quiet knock on the door. The Queen herself slips around it._

"_Your Majesty!"_

"_Shhh, Carlisle, please." She was distressed about something._

"_Do you have news of Bella? Is she safe?"_

"_She is still alive. She's imprisoned in the Tower. If she goes on trial - Carlisle, you must know that the King will have his way."_

"_Why does he do this to us? Why could he not just let it be? Why could he not have let us slip away? I was going to take her to the country. We were going to have a farm. We planned it. But he could not let it be."_

"_Carlisle, you know what he believes."_

"_What he believes is ridiculous!"_

"_Carlisle, I beg you, keep your voice down. If he knows I came here, we will both be in trouble. He's looking for any excuse to have you arrested too. You must be careful what you say and do. He will twist anything slightly out of mark into treason."_

"_I cannot lose her. She is my life. If she dies, there will be no reason in the world any more."_

"_How much do you know of her family?"_

"_French father, Spanish mother. Carpenter and servant."_

"_It is a lie." I spun round to come face to face with a stranger._

"_This is Fernandez. He is Ambassador to King Henry from Emperor Charles of Spain. He has news."_

"_Have you seen Bella?"_

"_Yes, My Lord, I have met with her. She lives, but that is all I can say."_

"_Why is Bella's parentage a lie?"_

"_When she was five years old she was smuggled from Spain by Ferdinand of Aragon's most trusted advisor. The story she had been raised under was that of the forbidden union. It was for her safety. The lie she always believed to be true was to save her life. She never met her real father. Her mother died when she was born, that is true, and she was a Spanish serving girl. But her father was not French. He was Spanish."_

"_Well, what does that change? Just being entirely Spanish rather than half Spanish will not save her life."_

"_No, but the Emperor protects his own."_

"_She just one Spanish woman. She's a bastard. In Spain, what status does that give her? It gives her nothing here. Why would the Emperor trouble himself? I just want my wife back. I just want to take her home alive, not home inside her coffin."_

"_You will. She's a royal bastard. She is Ferdinand of Aragon's daughter."_

"_What?!"_

"_The child of a forbidden union: The King of Spain and a palace serving girl in the Alhambra. She was born in the Alhambra, raised in the Sierras and removed from Spain when Isabella of Castille discovered her existence. Katherine knew that Isabella was her half-sister. And she made sure her nephew knew of her existence. She made him promise to protect his blood."_

"_And now," Jane breaks in. "Now he knows, through Fernandez, that she is accused of witchcraft. He knows she is married and that she has a child. He offers you safe passage - to Spain."_

"_Wait, wait, wait. If Isabella is, effectively, the Emperors aunt - then she is also the aunt to the Princess Mary."_

"_That is correct. Perhaps, when the King is no longer King, when his daughter Mary takes the throne, you would be able to return to England, and you would be protected."_

"_Does the Princess know this?"_

"_She knows that Isabella is her blood relative: but she doesn't know how. The Emperor considered it too risky to inform her of the exact nature of the relationship. There was also the risk that Mary would reject Isabella: because her faith dictates that a bastard child is nothing."_

"_Bella is Catholic. Bella clung to her faith even when King Henry enforced Protestantism upon the country. She is ashamed of the fact that she is illegitimate. She prays that her parents sins will be forgiven." _

"_Regardless, the Princess Mary does not know she was her mothers half-sister. She is aware that Isabella is illegitimate - but not of the precise relationship."_

"_So what happens to Bella? How does this help her?"_

"_The Emperor will not consent to see his blood relative killed. Especially when she is his aunt. If the King charges her with witchcraft, and carries out the death penalty - he will have rendered to Charles an invitation for open war."_

_The three of us stared at each other over the light of a single guttering candle. We were all aware in that moment that if anybody were to have over-heard this conversation, the three of us would be arrested and charged with treason._

For nearly a week, myself and Fernandez met in secret, to talk about how best to inform the King just whom he had under arrest in the Tower. And then a warrant for her release arrived from Spain. It bore the Royal seal of Charles himself. Queen Jane distracted the King from the presence of the Ambassador once he had been formally introduced, allowing us to meet and plan. It was all too clear to us that Bella and our son must leave England. I could stay: the King, Queen Jane reported, had no quarrel with me, and would allow me back into favour: if I consented to divorce my wife and deny the marriage and our son ever existed. But I made it perfectly clear that I would not leave Bella. If the Emperor would consent to have me, I would go to Spain with her. If he did not, then we would leave Spain, and change our names, go to Italy or the Netherlands. Fernandez assured me that the offer of safe passage and a secure future extended to me, as her husband.

For nearly a week, I prayed for Bella's life, wishing she was there when I woke in the night to the sound of my son's cries. Wishing she was there to comfort me when I feared so much for her life, I cried, unable to prevent the tears.

Finally, finally, I saw her. My heart almost gave out in relief to actually see her alive. If I hadn't been holding our son, I would have run into her arms like a child.

She walked into Court with her head held high, flanked by guards who were wary of her. The Spanish ambassador to Emperor Charles of Spain steps forward. He bows to the King - and then he turns, kneels to Bella, and kisses her hand. Colour enters her cheek, but she does not drop her gaze. She glances round and sees me. Silence settles like a cloak. Nobody even breathes loudly. The King looks furious at the Ambassadors treatment of Bella.

"Explain this! Why is the witch brought back into my Court, with neither my permission nor approval?"

"She is brought here under the protection of the Emperor Charles himself. She will not be harmed, nor will she be imprisoned. I am here to take her back to Spain - her and her family."

"You will take her nowhere! She is charged with witchcraft, and she will stand trial, be judged, and is required, punishment will be exacted! The Emperor holds no sway here!"

"But he holds sway in Spain, in Rome and he has armies ready to protect what is his." Whispers sweeps around the Court. Face after face turns to either the King, or to Bella. Her gaze is fixed on the King.

"What is his? What is his? This witch is the bastard of a French/Spanish union. She cannot be his!"

"If she were to be harmed, Your Majesty, then the reaction of the Emperor would be swift and final. She is not the child of a French/Spanish union. She is Spanish."

"It makes no difference. One less Spaniard in the world would make no difference. I doubt it would overly concern the Emperor."

"No Your Majesty. She is a bastard, this is true. But she is a very powerful bastard - the sort you well know of, Your Majesty, having several of them yourself."

"Then who is she?" The King's tone is mocking. "Tell us, little Isabella, tell us who you are!"

"I? I, Your Majesty, I am the child of Ferdinand of Aragon and his mistress. I am Katherine's half-sister and, effectively, The Emperor's aunt. I am your half-sister-in-law. Your Majesty, I am your daughter's aunt."

There are three seconds of absolute silence. Very suddenly, people seem to be aware that there are two people with Royal blood in their veins standing in front of them. Bella looks every inch a Princess. Her head is held high, her gaze is square on the King, her back is straight. Her shoulders are set, her chin is thrust forward proudly.

"You cannot be."

"You see the resemblance between Katherine and I, everybody saw it the day I first came to Court. It isn't because I am Katherine in spirit. It is because I am her sister."


	7. Chapter 7

**What Happens Now?**

BPOV

My mind is racing, emotions, thoughts, doubts, fear, racing through my mind. I make sure my expression remains carefully neutral. The King will play on any signs of doubt. The King, of all people, should be able to understand this: his own son, Henry Fitzroy came within an ace of being named successor to the throne of England. His death devastated the country. Why should I be so unbelievable?

"You and your Emperor expect me to believe that the child who was allowed to be brought up as a servant is now half-royalty?"

"Is it so very hard, Your Majesty?" Fernandez breaks in. "Your own daughter, the Princess Mary, you allowed her to serve the Princess Elizabeth. And the daughter your mistress Mary Boleyn bore, she served as Lady-In-Waiting to her aunt Anne. And her brother, your wife Anne was his patron. Why then, is it so hard to believe that Isabella -"

"Ferdinand of Aragon named the child of his mistress after his wife?"

"Catherine Carey bears the name of your wife." Murmurs of outrage swell and bubble as the King's face darkens with rage.

"The Carey children were never mine. They were the children of Sir William Carey, my Gentleman of the Privy Chamber and Lady Mary Carey, who, admittedly was Anne Boleyn's sister. But Mary, although she was my mistress at the time, bore me no children. You will leave my Court. But leave the witch, because she by English law is mine."

"I am no witch." I hold my head high. "Ask my husband. On this night that my spirit was seen, we were together. In bed."

"And can anybody testify -"

"Do you want to ask my son?"

CPOV

Her face is a mirror of his. Her cheeks burn with anger - and shame. Having to tell a Court our domestic activities to prove her innocence. I want to step forward and protect her. The King wants to know is anybody can confirm her story. Does he think we invite our servants to watch?

"Do you want to ask my son?" she demands, her face furious. "Should we ask a baby?" she walks to me, snatches our son from my arms and holds him out to the King. "Perhaps he heard us, Your Majesty! Perhaps, Your Majesty, he used his mother's _witchly powers_ to hoist himself from the cradle, and crawled along to watch!" The King gets to his feet. He advances towards Bella, who gathers the baby in her arms close. Any body else probably would be prostrated at his feet by now, begging for forgiveness, but she draws herself up to her full height and meets his eye. A royal bastard meeting the eye of the King of England himself. I walk quickly to her and take her hand. Fernandez joins us.

"Let us remain together tonight - and tomorrow morning I will be all to happy to leave your castle, and your country, and never set foot here again." She hands our son to me and takes three steps forward. "All I can do is give you my word that you have no reason to fear any threat from me or my family in the future." She curtseys deeply and then comes back to me. She cradles our baby's head gently with one hand. "His middle name is Henry. He's just a child, Your Majesty. Does he look like a risk? Do you doubt my skills as mother so much that you believe I could not teach him wrong from right? I will go as far away as you want me to. But I am no witch, my son is not a threat and I swear here and now, with this Court as my witness, that if it is your wish, I will never again return to this country! All I want is to be with my son - and with the man I love." The King stares at her.

"I would have your word?"

"Yes. I will sign a contract if I have to."

"Carlisle?"

"I spent my entire life here, Your Majesty. But if you send Bella, there would be no way I could leave her. I will go with her."

"What's his name?" The King asks, pointing at the baby in my arms.

"Carlisle Henry Cullen."

We are sent away, along with the entire Court, whilst the King and his advisors deliberate. She makes it to the rooms assigned to me the day they took her away, and breaks down in my arms. I can do nothing but hold her as she sobs.

HenryPOV

"We can't charge her with witchcraft. No jury would convict her. She's too - compelling. She wouldn't even need a lawyer. And you know that Charles will come if you behead his aunt, illegitimate or no."

"She's Aragon's daughter! She's a risk."

"Carlisle would never move against you, no matter how much he loves her. He would never allow it. And I can't see her riding into battle. She fights with words, not with a blade."

"Her namesake got on a horse, and stormed the Alhambra whilst her daughters watched and prayed on a battlefield. Her namesake was responsible for uncountable numbers of the dead during the Spanish Wars."

"Let them go to Spain. If the Emperor sees that you are willing to co-operate - lets face facts, Your Majesty, he has been hankering for any excuse. Don't play into his hands."

"So I let a Spanish royal bastard go back to Spain, into the hands of the Emperor himself, with her son and any potential future children, and that it?" I ask. I'm exhausted. I already know that I cannot win this.

"There is no choice. Send an escort of soldiers to escort them to the coast, let them see them onto the ship, and watch the ship set sail."

CPOV

For nearly six hours, the King and his advisors debated our future. For nearly six hours, our fate hung in the balance like a glass goblet in the hands of a sleeping drunkard. For nearly six hours, I was steeling myself to fight for Bella and my son - to the death if I had to.

"What can be taking them so long?" Bella whispers. Her throat is dry after hours of silence and watching me pace back and forth. "I need you to make me a promise, Carlisle."

"Anything my darling."

"If they come for me, you'll not fight. If they come for me, and if they kill me, you mustn't fight!"

"Bella, I -"

"Henry has no quarrel with you! He will let you and our son live, and I will not see my son consigned to an orphanage. But if you fight them, he will take you too, and God only know what he would do to my baby. Promise me you will not fight!" I gaze down at her. Her eyes are burning as she gazes up at me. "Do I have your word?"

"Yes." She stands up and kisses me. There is a tramp of marching feet in the passage outside. She does not stop kissing me, not even when the door bursts open. Six men in dark cloaks watch us.

"My Lord Carlisle - My Lady Isabella. You must come with us, now."

"Where are we going?" She asks, her voice trembling slightly.

"To Portsmouth. The King has agreed to let you go - and we must leave immediately, he could change his mind at any moment. A ship waits."

We ride out that night, in the darkness. Bella disguises herself as a boy for ease of riding. She straps our son across her front like the peasant women do in the field. The Palace fades into the night as we gallop away, from London, from everything I know, from everything we both call home. From the place where we face certain death if we remain.

_**A/N: Sorry this has taken so long! Please review, working on next chapter now!!! So sorry I'm so pants at doing updates on this story!!!!!! I love you all muchly! **_


	8. Chapter 8

**_A/N: I'M SORRY!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm a bad person, I know. I haven't updated in AGES and I beg your forgiveness. I keep starting other things, and I know I shouldn't. but I mean to try much, much harder with this story. So, here, after I dread to think how long, is Chapter 8 of Maid and Master. This story is close to being finished, actually. I'm so sorry about my pantsness. PLEASE forgive me, read and review????_**

**The Ride**

We ride through that night, without stopping, through the next day. We're just over half-way there when we stop. It's well past midnight. We knock on a door. We are expected - fresh horse are given to us, our others taken away. We are given bread, cheese, ham and ale. We make a hasty dinner, and snatch an hours sleep. We ride on. Bella is looking pale and drawn, and doesn't stop looking over her shoulder. Our child is cradled close to her chest, and he barely cries, but instead seems to sense his mothers anxiety. She won't let me take him, not even for a moment, terrified by something she won't name to me or to the men who ride silently with us. She hasn't spoken more than five words to me since we left court. She seems to fear every shadow, her eyes never still, watching everything, everyone. I think she half expects one of the men to pull a gun and shoot us both dead.

We reach Portsmouth.

"There's somebody following us."

"What?" Her voice was hoarse, but very clear.

"I said, there is somebody following us." And she's right. A rider, alone, swathed in a long cloak emerges from the fog that surrounds the Portsmouth dock. He dismounts and comes towards us. Before any of the soldiers that make up our escort can call a challenge, Bella dismounts and takes three precise steps forwards. "Who are you? What do you want? Why do you follow us?" There is no answer from the cloaked rider for a minute. Bella opens her mouth to call again, but the rider throws back their hood.

"It's me." Jasper strides forward, his face pale, his blond curls matted with something dark and thick. There isn't enough light, I can't see him properly. "It's just me."

"Jasper, what happened?" As if somebody planned it, the sun pushes it's way weakly through the fog that shrouds the docks and illuminates us. Jasper is covered in blood.

"Jasper!" Bella shrieks in horror.

"Carlisle, they came after us. The King sent men for us after we started back home. Alice, Edward, Emmett - they're dead, Carlisle." Bella's face drains of all colour.

"Why? He lets us go and then kills those we love. Why?" Bella's face is set with anger.

"Jasper, what exactly happened?"

"No, don't tell me. I can't hear it. Alice was my sister, I loved her. Edward and Emmett too - I can't hear how they died." She lifts our son out of the sling across her front and walks away, rocking him gently.

"She's suffered so much, Carlisle. I want to come with you, if you'll have me."

"You know you'll always have a place at my side. I need to know what the King did to them."

"Shot them. It was quick Carlisle."

"If he didn't get you, if you're still alive, whose blood is that?"

"Some of it's mine." He gestures at his hair. "I cut my head on a rock. They left me alive. I don't know why. They made me watch them shoot my friends and they left me alive. They pushed me over, and I hit my head, knocked myself out. I came straight for you."

"Who does the rest belong to?"

"It doesn't matter -"

"Who, Jasper?"

"Alice." I don't question him further. I know they planned to marry at some point. I don't ask him questions. He looks shattered. We board the ship that afternoon and we are intended to set sail the following morning. Bella holds him in her arms until he falls asleep, stroking new washed hair, singing to him like she sings to our baby when he won't settle. It soothes Jasper and she covers him gently with a blanket when she's certain he's asleep. She sits up with him right through the night, watching him sleep, holding the hand he flings out during a nightmare. She holds it, kisses his fingers, and sings softly once again, until his breathing has settled again and he seems calm. She didn't close her eyes once that night, but Jasper slept better for her vigil.

The next morning is cool, crisp and with just the right wind for setting sail for Spain. The journey will take nearly a week, if the weather remains fair for that length of time. I find Bella waiting on the tope deck, silent, unobtrusive, wearing a black gown.

"I'm running away from superstition and doubt and the mind of a King that is starting to become twisted and mad." I look around to see if anybody heard that. Nobody is close enough to have heard her low tone.

"Bella, you mustn't say that."

"It's the truth, Carlisle. I'm sick of having to lie, and bite my lip and pretend I'm perfectly happy to go along with this. Because of Henry, I am fleeing the country which is all the home I know. Because of Henry my friends are dead. Because of Henry, you have had to leave behind a country which you depend on for your income, and go to one that doesn't exactly welcome the English with open arms. What are we going to do? We left behind everything when we left Court. We have nothing. I'm used to nothing, I can survive on nothing, but you've never had to and it's my fault. If we hadn't -"

"Do you regret us?" I demand, my voice harsh. "Do you regret us? Our son, do you regret him? Do you regret everything we've ever had, everything we've done?" I pull her face up to mine, kiss her roughly. "I have absolutely no regrets. I'd take you over wealth and comfort every single time. I love you." She puts her head on my chest. I put my arms around her shoulders.

"You know I love you. But that doesn't make any of this fair."

"Life isn't fair. You just have to make the best of what you're given. And I intend to make the best of this. We'll manage, Bella. I promise."

Even as I say it, I know I can't promise it. Even as I say it, I know that I'm lying. We don't know what we're walking into. We could be walking towards death, as opposed to away from it. A silent plan begins to form in my mind, but I say nothing. We're still in danger. We're still at risk. I feel no safer, even as the ship sets sail, and we pull away from England forever.

A/N: Ha! Finished the chapter. I don't deserve it, but please review! Like I said, the story is ALMOST finished, but there are at least three more chapters to come yet. I PROMISE i will get them done, i swear. I love you all!!!


	9. Chapter 9

**_A/N: I lied about the fact there are three more chapters. There's one more: this one. BUT it's left open for a sequel. And I'm sorry I'm such a terrible awful person, that I haven't updated this since August. Please forgive me, and please read and review!_**

CPOV

After three days of sailing, we pull into a dock in France to replenish supplies of food and water. Bella is pale and ill, and getting her to a doctor is of great importance. She has already confided that she believes that she is pregnant again. However, it doesn't stop the fear that settles on my heart. She was only sick last time. She lies delirious with fever now, in our cabin, without even the strength to feed our son. I am terrified that I will lose them both. The guards will not allow us off the ship, and say we must wait until Spain. Only one good thing comes from Bella's illness, and that is that Jasper has a purpose again. He treasures Bella like a sister, and he spends almost every second by her side, bathing her forehead, helping her sit up, and literally helping her feed our son. He sleeps for a couple of hours a day, spending the rest of his time taking as much of the work off my hands as possible, leaving me time to care for the baby who cries nearly constantly. When we dock, I have no options left.

"Please, I beg you, let me send for a doctor."

"We have our orders -"

"She will die!" I shout, and the captain visibly jumps. "Hang your orders! She will die if she does not see a doctor soon. Send for someone, I beg you, or I will lose not just my wife, but my son as well, and possibly the unborn child she may carry! Captain, I am begging you, let me send Jasper for a doctor, let him come and look her over - let him come and simply make her better so I can get her to Spain. Do not ask me to bury my wife at sea, please!"

"Send him. But be quick. We sail tomorrow - with or without the doctor having come for her."

Jasper finds someone the same day, and brings him to the ship. The doctor in question is a tiny man, impossibly old. His English is perfect, although tinted with his accent. He also seems very clean and neat, which fills me with hope.

"My Lord Cullen?" he enquires, bowing neatly. "Where is the good lady? I have received payment already from the guards with you, and I may begin treatment immediately. You say she may be with child, no?"

"She thinks she might be, but I'm not sure. It wasn't like this last time." He approaches Bella, whose breathing is hoarse and quick. Her cheeks look like candle wax, and even her lips are chalky pale. He possesses himself of her wrist, feels her pulse.

"Her pulse and breathing are rapid, and clearly she has a temperature of some sort. How much is she able to do for herself? Can she, for example, use the latrine unaided?"

"No," I say, my voice breaking. "She can barely even sit up to be able to feed our son."

"She still breastfeeds? My Lord, may I have your permission to examine your wife? I must also perform an internal examination, to investigate the possibility of pregnancy."

"You have it doctor. Do whatever you can to make my wife better." As if on cue, James began crying. Bella insisted on using his middle name to be able to distinguish between us.

"You must take that baby for fresh air. Send in that man servant, he can help me. Forgive me, my Lord, but I fear you would be more hindrance than help, were you to be present." having never been dismissed my someone so tiny, I gape for a few minutes before getting up and leaving the room. I send Jasper in. I pace the decks, worrying obsessively.

JPOV

She's thinner, paler. The doctor requests I help him undress her. She protests, a low moan as the cool air hits her body, and he nods in satisfaction.

"This is good. It is not cold in here, and this proves her temperature is high. Keep her dressed to a minimum - it will help cool her. Now to examine." His quick hands feel Bella's temples, throat, sides and the inside of her thighs. When he touches her stomach, she gasps aloud. He looks at her closely. There are very faint bruises on her stomach. "As I feared. She bleeds inside the womb. I must perform an internal examination. Help me hold her. If it is as I fear, this will be very painful for her." I do as instructed, holding her shoulders down. We have to call in a guard to help, and he holds her legs open. The doctor busies himself between her legs and he starts his examination. He barely gets inside when Bella screams. His face is very grim. "Thank you," he sys to the guard, who gets up and leaves as quickly as he can. Bella is moaning relentlessly. "She has lost the baby, but for some reason the baby is not forthcoming. The child has died inside her - and is effectively poisoning her. If the baby is not brought forth, it will kill her. She is in pain ,as you can see. We must perform a little operation, but to do it, I need the Lord Carlisle's permission. We cannot wait for events to unfold naturally."

The doctor brought Carlisle back into the cabin. He is as pale as her.

"My Lord Carlisle, your wife is very sick. She is - was - pregnant. The child has died inside her body, but the baby is not being brought forth. I must operate."

"You want to cut her open?" He looks aghast, and no wonder. Operations are dangerous.

"No, no, Monsieur. There is a way -"

"Do it. Whatever you have to do, do it."

I will not describe the next hour. Bella, mercifully, lost consciousness only minutes in, and remained so for the entire procedure. The doctor wrapped up the foul-smelling bundle immediately, not allowing me to see it.

"What would -"

"That doesn't matter. My work is done, but the moment you dock in Spain a doctor must see her. Keep her cool until her temperature drops, after which ensure he stays warm. She must not exert herself in a anyway, and I would prefer she does not get up until you reach Spain. I will send a message - someone will be waiting on the docks for her. I do not think she will be any the worse for this experience. I will speak to Lord Carlisle. Make sure she eats and drinks."

CPOV

The neat little man approached me, and my heart skipped a beat. But he smiled as he reached me and my legs gave out. I clutched my son close, needing him to say it.

"She is well. It is well. I am confident she will recover, and a doctor will be waiting in Spain for you. He will examine her, and only after he has given his permission will she be moved to your home. She is to rest - I gave full instructions for her care to your servant. However, as good as her recovery should be, I would not recommend another pregnancy for at least a year. If it does happen, she would have to be watched, and watched closely. Take my advice - you are both young, you have time. Wait a year, get this little one grown -" he puts one hand on my sons head and smiles "let this one grow, perhaps until he is two, before you add to your family."

"Thank you, Doctor. For everything."

The doctor pronounced her fit, but it was weeks of Spanish air before they declared her fit enough to travel on, to visit the Holy Roman Emperor. Even then, it was a month of travelling to get her to his Court.

He declared that his aunt would always be welcome in his lands, and that no person would trouble her. His grace extended even to me, even to our son, who was at the bright-eyed inquisitive stage, when everything shines, everything must be investigated. He raised his eyebrows when James crawled into the Chamber, and cooed, sitting himself at Bella's feet. She apologised, but the Emperor simply laughed.

"No person can control a little child's need for his mother. And nobody may stifle a child's gaze, even when it is addressed to royalty!"

We found home near the border with the Netherlands, and we had the farm I'd dreamed of having. Jasper stays with us, but more of a brother than a servant. And he seems to be looking at a young Spanish orphan girl, whom Bella has more or less adopted. She helps out with the farm too, and Jasper and she persisted in having little conversations in Spanish and English, as they each tried to learn the other's language. They made each other laugh with their efforts, and kept Bella well entertained. She blossomed in the clear air, colour and weight returning. She blossomed through her second pregnancy. When she gave birth to a little daughter, she named her Katherine Isabella Charlotte, in homage to both the long-dead Queen of England and the man who took us in.

"Do you miss England?" she asked me quietly one day, when we were curled up in bed together. I reached out and played idly with a strand of long dark hair.

"No." As I said it, I realised it was the truth for the very first time. I no longer secretly yearned for my homeland, the place where my parents were buried. "Not any more."

"Why the change of heart?"

"Because if we had stayed in England, I would not have had you. You would have died if we had stayed, and so I cannot possibly miss it." She snuggled closer, and one hand slipped down my side, tracing patterns on my bare hip.

"Good. I don't miss it either." Suddenly the position of her hand changed, and she took me in her hand, coaxing me back to hardness. I groaned and thrust into her hand. I pushed her onto her back and slid inside her, groaning her name. She mewed and stretched beneath me, digging her nails into my shoulders. She hooked her legs around my waist, and I snarled, the position allowing me to plunge fully inside her. The feel of her intoxicating heat, how wet she always got for me, the feel of her, it drove me mad every second I didn't have it, and drove me mad every second I had it. She was like air - I needed her to simply live, needed her to breathe.

I collapsed on top of her panting. She wrapped her arms around me and kissed my jaw softly.

"I have something to tell you."

"Hmmm?"

"We're having a baby."

Another girl, another baby to add to our little family. She was born in 1539, and our youngest, a boy, was born to in 1550. Six children, and Bella still doesn't look a day older. James, my eldest boy, was ten when the news reached France that Henry VIII was dead, and his son Edward was assuming the throne. My wife is thirty three when Mary I assumes the English throne in a move which astounds the world. Our six children are aged sixteen to just three and for a few short weeks, a lump of black fear lay in my heart. I couldn't explain it, and I never mentioned it to Bella. But I could not shake the feeling that something was going to happen, something was going to happen to throw our quiet, peaceful, happy lives into disorder and turmoil.

On April 1st, 1543, a letter arrives, brought by messenger - my wife and I, along with out entire family, are being ordered back to England. Backed by Phillip of Spain, we were left with no choice but to begin preparations for the journey back to England. For the first time in years, I feared for Bella's life. Having set affairs in order, and leaving the farm in Jasper's capable hands, we boarded a ship - and turned our eyes once more to England.

**_A/N: Well, that's it. It's finished. Escape has been made, but they may be riding back to what? I'll write a sequel maybe. Depends. I'd have to think of a bloody plot first. So, review?_**


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